Something for Dudley
by The Fair Lady Psyche
Summary: A Dudley fic. This is chaptered.
1. Default Chapter

To put it simply, I do not own Harry Potter.

Something for Dudley

Dudley Durlsey walked the halls of Smeltings, alone.

Ever since the dementor had attacked him and Harry on that night all the way back in the last summer break, he had been brooding. Harry had saved him. But why? Dudley knew that he certainly wasn't the nicest person in the world to Harry, after all Harry was weird, and weird people had to be straighten out, or cast out, which was what his father more or less said.

And Dudley had indeed done that. After school, and whenever adults weren't around, Dudley would indeed pick on his smaller, and mostly defenseless cousin. And he made sure to hurt Harry any way he could, too. So why would Harry save him?

Dudley had poor grades, and was spoiled through and through, but even so, he_ could _think. Dudley knew that his cousin _could_ have let the dementor have him, _could_ have left him to save himself, _could_ have. But Harry didn't. He has saved Dudley, put his life on the line to save him from, what had he called it? A kiss? Something that sucked the soul out? 

Not even Dudley's friends would have done that, save him. But Harry had. And Dudley remembered something.

__

"Give me back my homework, Dudley, please!" Harry begged, his green eyes overpowering, begging for his things, but at the same time, defiant.

6 year old Dudley looked away from those powerful eyes, leaving them lingering on the toilet in front of them. "No. Why should I? You don't have anything but that stinky cupboard and spiders! I want something, now!" 

"I'll give you my pocket money." Harry said, steely. He knew what Dudley was thinking of, and he didn't want that to happen.

"You still have pocket money?"Dudley asked, curious, looking into those eyes, once again. "Daddy hasn't given you any for 2 months!"

"I've saved it."

Saved? Daddy had told Dudley to leave saving to the grown-ups, and spend his pocket money whenever he wanted.

"How much?" Dudley asked. If it was enough, he could get some more of those cherry bombs he and Piece were planning on getting.

"Two pounds." Dudley frowned, inwardly. That wasn't enough! He tipped the papers into the toilet, enough to show Harry he'd do it, but still dry so that if Harry offered something Dudley he wanted Harry could have the papers back.

"Not enough."

"Five pounds." Was he holding back? Dudley guessed yes.

"I WANT ALL OF IT!" Harry looked shocked, that Dudley had guessed he had more.

"Twenty." Harry said, in almost a whisper.

"Go get it."

"Alright." Harry left, and in a few minutes, came back to the bathroom, with twenty separate 1 pound notes clutched tightly in his hand.

"Give." Dudley said, holding out his hand.

"Alright," Harry said, defeated, seeming close to tears, and hopeless. He put the money in Dudley's hand, but....

FLUSH!

"NO! YOU SAID YOU WOULDN"T!!!!! YOU SAID!!! YOU SAID!!!"

To be Continued.__


	2. Clay Statue

I do not own Harry Potter. If you were confused by what I put as 'the last summer break' it means this is taking place after the events of OoTP, putting the story in Harry's 6th year.

Something for Dudley

Dudley went to his private room, which his father was paying extra money for to the school, so 'Dudley could learn in peace without idiots badgering him'. He reached under the bed, where he had stuffed various things that wouldn't fit in the dresser and schoolbag. 

What he was looking for had collected dust on, near and around it, so when he pulled his arm out, with what he was looking for in his hand, from his shoulder down, his arm was covered in several layers of dust. 

And that object was a little clay statue.

__

"Today we're going to make statues, using molding clay," the teacher said, "But this can get messy, so I want you working on your statues with a partner, who I'll choose." 

Dudley was six, nearly seven, and he wanted to wanted to work with Piers (yes, I know I spelled him Piece.)_ but Piers had been partnered up with a girl._

"Sorry," Piers mouthed to him, as the stubborn girl dragged him in the opposite direction, but Dudley knew he wasn't sorry. Piers, the little rat, looked relieved to not be partnered up with Dudley again.

"Dudley, you'll be partners with Harry, okay?" The teacher said, smiling before she had to take clay out of a girl's hair that someone had thrown.

"No." Dudley said crossly, even though she had already left.

Harry, chary of his cousin, picked up the packet of modeling clay when they got to a table. "What color clay do you want?" He said, showing Dudley the packet. Dudley saw the clay color he was hiding. It was green, like Harry's eyes, and also Harry's favorite color.

"Green. I'm going to make Godzilla and have him tear your stupid cupboard down," Dudley said, grabbing at the packet of clay.

"Okay, then." Harry said quietly, looking down through his overgrown bangs, as he picked out the purple clay.

"What are you making?" Dudley asked, curiously. So far Harry's clay looked like a cup, while his Godzilla looked like a cactus with three trunks, instead of one.

"A bowler hat." Harry answered, focusing every bit of attention on his creation.

"A what?"

"One of those hats Uncle Vernon says Prime Minister Churchill wore."

"Oh. A dead guy. But why purple?" He asked, actually having a conversation, that was, if not friendly, at least neutral with his cousin.

"It's the color of the hat the person at the grocery store wore." Harry explained, using his fingers to mold the brim.

"Mum says you aren't supposed to talk about that weirdo."

"But you wanted to know."

"Whatever."

"Alright class! Time to let your models dry!"

Dudley looked at his statue. "NO FAIR! I didn't finish mine!"

"Here, Dudley. Have mine." Harry said, holding the clay hat out.

"No way!" Dudley yelled, pushing the out held statue on the floor, where the top of it flattened. Tears rose to Harry's eyes, and then he ran out the door. When he was left alone in the classroom, Dudley picked up the statue and put in his things.


End file.
